Jays and Robins
by Grey Foxes
Summary: Jason's relaxing on the couch when he receives a hysterical phone call from Dick. Against his better instincts and the mocking of someone he really shouldn't be talking to, he goes to investigate and falls head-first into the Winchester Apocalypse.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One **

_This isn't about a war. It's about two brothers that loved each other and betrayed each other. You think you'd be able to relate. –Gabriel, Changing Channels 5.08_

This isn't a story about Nightwing. It isn't about the Red Hood. It's about Dick Grayson and Jason Todd. It's about a mistake and how it gets resolved. It's about sacrifice and resolution to see it through the end.

Dick Grayson went missing the same day that Gabriel dies. These two facts weren't unrelated. The third fact, the fact that the third person would never talk about, is that Dick Grayson called Jason Todd one hour before he went missing. He told Jason everything. This is their conversation.

It's ten in the morning and Jason has just changed from his vigilante outfit into old sweats and a tatty t-shirt. The apartment reeks of beer and old sweat, and there's an odd stain on one wall. He'd flopped onto the couch and turns on the TV, settling onto Dr. Sexy MD and turns it on mute. He starts to clean his guns. The phone rings. He picks it up and answers it, almost absent-mindly.

"Todd."

"Jay, I did something stupid," Dick's voice croaks down the phone.

Jason carefully puts down the gun he's cleaning and pays more attention to the conversation. "Dick, what's going on? Whatta do?" He scans his living room, looking for his laptop. It's on the kitchen counter. He gets up to get it, planning to trace the call.

"I said yes. Fuck. I didn't think, I didn't _know_…" Dick's voice hitches on a sob, "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."

This is scaring Jason. In all the time he's known Dick, he's never heard his brother swear. He's also never heard Dick this freaked out. "Dick, what did you do? _Where _are you? Jason demands, diving for the laptop. He rapidly logs in and activates his tracer program. "What's going _on_?"

"Angels are real, and I'm one of Gabriel's vessels and I said yes. Jason please don't look for me- no! No, no, no, shit." A clunk is heard, and a tinny rattle. Dick's using a payphone. Dick cusses as he feeds the payphone and gets back on the line, "Jaybird…"

"Gabriel, the Archangel?" This wasn't making sense. Jason powered on through anyways.

"Yeah. Can you believe it? Angels and demons and monsters are all _real_. They're real, Jay." Dick sounded slightly awed.

Jason was speechless. Dick. Dick was going to be gone soon, and he didn't think there was much he could do to stop it. Things that lived in the part of Jason's brain that was labeled 'IGNORE' was rattling in his head. He shoved the entire thought process down and concentrated on his older brother.

"Take care of my stuff Jay. He said that him using my sexy, sexy body was only going to be temporary, but I don't know how much I believe him. I love you." Dick was trying to make him feel better with a joke. It wasn't working.

The line, however, didn't go dead. He thanked God it didn't go dead.

"Dick, please. I love you too, you piece of shit. What the hell is going on?" Jason demands.

Instead of replying, Dick rattled off a number that Jason memorized and wrote down by force of habit. "Don't tell anyone that I called you. I'll miss you Jay. I love you, and I love Little D, and Timmy, and Babs, and Bruce, and Stephanie, and Cass. I'll miss them, and you."

"Dickie, _don't_" Jason's eyes are glued to the loading bar, "Whatever your gonna do, don't. Take it back, Dickie-bird. Take it back. I love you, you great big moron." The laptop shuts down by itself. Jason cusses and reboots it.

"I'm sorry," Dick says again, and hangs up.

Jason puts his head in his hands and does something he hadn't done in years. He started to sob. It was a goodbye for an unknown length of time, and Dick had outright said that whatever the hell he was doing may not allow him to come back.

_Fuck. Fuck. FUCK._

When the laptop rebooted, Jason notices that the trace didn't go through. He glowers at the thing and wipes the hard drive. He does the same to his phone, to honor part of Dick's last request. He ripped up the paper that he wrote the number on and put the pieces in the disposable in the sink. For Dick. Who'd never given up on him, despite everything he'd done. The least he could do was get the Bat Family off his trail.

The next night, Jason is assaulted by phone calls when Dick fails to check in. He gets more when Dick's been AWOL for a week. Finally, Bruce breaks into his safe house.

"Jason," Bruce says coldly.

"I don't _have him, _and I _don't _know where he is. I've been repeating myself over n' over for a week now, Bruce." Jason snarls. The phone number that Dick gave him is burning through his head.

"I know he called you."

Jason scowls at him. "And? What, do you expect me to share what we talked about? He wanted to check up on me."

"You know where he is. Or, at the very least, who took him." Bruce accuses. He goes for the disappointed parental look. Jason doesn't fall for it.

"I don't." Jason asserted. "Go do big scary bat things. I have better things to do than listen to you accuse me."

Bruce leaves. Jason doesn't patrol. Instead, he looks up the number. It's a landline for some place called Singer's Auto. Jason purses his lips and checks the address.

Jason huffs out an irritated breath. He could make that in a day or so, taking his bike. Might as well see why Dick gave him the number before he went AWOL. (Jason ignores the feeling that is wondering where is big brother is. If he's okay. If he's alive. That totally isn't the reason why he's checking the place out)


	2. Chapter 2

_Do I look like a ditchable prom date to you?- Bobby Singer (3.16 No Rest for the Wicked) _

Singer's house is surrounded by skeletons of cars- most of them rusted through or just rusted shut. He notes that some of them have wards spray painted on them, mostly alarm ones.

His phone rings. He checks the caller ID, scowls, and picks up.

"Todd."

"_I'm telling you, this isn't going to work._"

"Fuck off if you don't have anything intelligent to say asshole." Jason snaps at his phone.

"_I'm plenty intelligent_," The caller sounds affronted. Jason responded with a suggestion involving a rusty knife and a sexual impossibility. "_That's crude. I thought you liked me better than that. Anyways, they won't tell you shit about Dickie-boy._" They sniggered. Jason hung up, and considered the house. There was already someone on the porch, a shotgun resting against his leg.

"Who the hell are you?" He yelled. Jason noted that he was in a wheelchair, with an oil-stained baseball cap on his head.

Jason smirked, sharp and pointed. "I'm Jason Todd. Are you Singer?"

"Whadda want?" Singer demanded, glowering at him. Jason stopped right before the porch, not bothering to step up.

"I'm looking for my brother- Richard Grayson. Dick for short. He's been missing for almost a week, and I've tracked him to Sioux Fall. Have you seen him?" Jason rooted around in his bag and dug up a picture of Dick attempting to tackle a laughing Roy, who's triumphantly holding a football high above his head. "He's the one with the black hair."

Singer barely looked at the photo, and Jason was interested to note that Singer was nervous- no, not exactly- Singer was edgy. He'd seen Dick recently.

"Can't say I have." Singer responded. Jason scowled. He fished in his jacket pocket and came up with a bug, one he planned to stick underneath the porch's rails.

"Are you sure?" Jason asked casually, leaning up against the railing, planting the bug, "My youngest brother is throwing a shit-fit, and Dickie boy practically raised him." He checked the bug, satisfied that it would stick.

"No, I haven't. Want to leave a number in case I do?"

Jason shrugged. "Sure," he rambled off the numbers, and Singer wrote them down on a scrap of paper he pulled out of his pocket. "Later."

He turned around and ambled off the property, already calculating the range of the bug. He was about ninety percent certain that his motel was in range.

_"__You said this one didn't have any family!" _someone roared at about eight 'o clock PM.

Jason startled awake and grabbed for the headset.

_"__No living family," _Dick's voice said, cheery, but with an undercurrent of nerves, _"__I didn't expect one of them to come out this far, Dickie-boy was on the outs." _

_ "__Family doesn't end with blood, boy!" _Singer yelled, _"__What the hell did you thing you were doing?" _

Jason winced and turned down the volume.

_"__I was thinking that there's an apocalypse on and not exactly not enough time to be picky! He was the best I had to go with, so fuck you, I went with it!" _

Jason growled. _It? _Dick wasn't a fucking _It_ and Jason was going to show that bastard that as soon as possible.

_"__Yeah? So, if he was on the outs with his family then why do we have his brother sniffing around?" _The person who had roared earlier demanded, _"__Bobby, what'd you say his name was?" _

_ "__Jason Todd."_

_ "__You're kidding," _a new voice said dryly, _"__I really hope you're kidding."_

_ "__Well, I ain't Sam, so why don't ya get on with it?" _Singer demanded

_"__That's Bruce Wayne's ward- one of the richest men in Gotham__City." _Sam said, _"__And if what Jason showed you was true- then Gabriel's parading around in Dick Grayson, his oldest ward. Now, Jason was reported dead in a bombing, but resurfaced a while a go claiming that he was only caught in the edge of the blast range. He then went off the map again, and this is the first time he's resurfaced." _

_ "__Well, shit." _


	3. Chapter 3

_But how do we find anything on a world where they won't invent Google for another __**century?! **__– __Jason Todd (New Earth) _

Jason waffled for a few hours on whether or not to go back to Singer's house to confirm that it was a hotspot of _The Motherfucking Asshole_, and then shrugged, deciding on going in a few hours. It would possibly freak out Singer, and let them know that he wasn't going away.

The phone blares out a tinny ring tone. Jason doesn't bother checking the caller ID, only answering with an annoyed "Todd."

"_Jason, what's going on?_" The Pretender demands. "_I just got here from college, and Dick's missing?_"

Jason honestly considers hanging up and ditching the phone. Then he realized that Tim would still find a way to be annoying, and that would only _inspire _him. So, he actually answers. "I'm _busy, _Replacement."

"_Sure you are_," Tim sounds annoyingly smug. Jason fondly recalls Damian tossing Tim off the Batcave's dinosaur and wishes he had been there to see it. "_That's why you're talking to me right?_"

"_Look_," Jason snaps, "I get it. We currently have a mutual benefit thing going, but I swear to God, Drake, if you don't leave me the hell alone, I will shove a Batarang so far your sorry ass that you'll be able to throw it from your _fucking mouth_."

Drake considers this, and then responds with a rather creative threat involving said batarang and hung up. Jason snickered.

On the other side of America (lies, she was actually a few hours away), Sasha Todd _(Damn it Jason, why can't you ever see that somebody loves you? Well I do. Platonically) _is about to open the door to her apartment when she hears a noise. She paused, keys jiggling in one hand, and pressed an ear to the door.

Someone is in her apartment. Sasha considers this fact, and draws a knife. She unlocks the door and lets it creak open, and her jaw drops at the scene inside.

A man, blonde and gaunt and wearing rather _expensive _clothes in unconscious on her rug. In one hand he's loosely clutching a stick, and broken pieces of it surround him. Sasha doesn't see how he got in, because her salt lines are unbroken and her fire escape window is locked. She grabs her baseball bat that's beside her open door- which she closes- and pokes him. He grunts, muttered something, and rolled over. Sasha sighed and gripped his armpits, _whoa he was light, _and hauled him onto the couch.

She'll give a couple of hours before dumping a bucket of cold water on him.

It's noon when Jason reappears at Singer's place. He's grinning- never a good sign to anyone who knows him- and he stops at the same place where he talked to Singer yesterday. He whistles, long and loud and smirked at the sudden dead silence where before there had been low conversation.

Another pause, and Singer comes rolling out the front door. "What d'ya want, now?" He demands, like he has the right.

He wants his big brother. So, he responds with a vague threat. "I heard that Dickie-boy came by last night. Do you know where he went?"

Singer glowered at him. "I had guests over. Why'd you even think that, anyhow?"

Jason smiled, sharp-toothed and deadly. "A little birdie told me." That has all kinds of implications. He considers Singer, thinking about how he could get him to let drop where _The Motherfucking Asshole _is. Contacts that he hasn't had to use in a while told him that Singer is one paranoid bastard and Jason doesn't feel like getting his face blasted with a shotgun. So breaking in is out.

Oh, hell. Singer's loading up the shotgun. It's buckshot, so it'd sting like a bitch, but _still._

Jason's phone rings, breaking the tense silence. "Mind if I answer?" Singer shakes his head. Jason clicks the answer button and says "Jason speaking."

A beat goes by and then... "Sasha, slow down. What? _You're fucking kidding me_. No. No, don't shoot him. What have I told you about shooting people that try to have sex with you? No, don't shoot them unless they're really kinky. He's a _what_? Okay, Scar, be there in a few hours, and don't hit the fucker over the head again. Love you, bye." Jason hung up and raised an eyebrow. "So, are you gonna shoot me, 'cause I got someone keeping the bed warm."

"Get the fuck offa my property and maybe I'll consider it." Singer snaps.

Jason waves and ambled off.

"Seriously, luv? I thought we'd established that hitting me over the head with a baseball bat doesn't do a damn thing."

"Yes it does. It makes me feel better and you are seriously fucking annoying,"

"I feel the love."

"You'll feel a knife if don't shut up."


	4. Chapter 4

_Sometimes there's a clue to the present to the past – Bruce Wayne (New Earth_

Sasha Todd aka Scarlet, the Red Hood's temporary sidekick was debating whether or not to bash Blondie's head in. So far, in the span of the ten minutes since she had called Jason, he had propositioned her twice, made multiple lewd comments and had groped her ass. The last one had caused her to hit him over the head so hard that the bat bent itself out of shape, which pissed her off.

He's quite now, watching her warily, something that she appreciates. Finally, after a moment, he asks, "Who'd you call?"

"My pseudo-brother- Jason Todd."

Blondie's eyes widened. "Bloody _hell_, him?

"Yeah," Sasha said, narrowing her eyes, "why, owe him money?"

Blondie just starts laughing. Sasha prays that Jason will get his sorry fucking ass here soon.

(^^)

Jason, at the moment, had other problems. He'd been pulled over.

"You were going over twenty miles the speed limit." The cop said pompously. Jason clenched his jaw.

"On an empty highway," Jason pointed out sourly, "A very empty highway. I think I see tumbleweed."

The cop grimaced and let him go without a ticket. Jason beamed at him and rumbled down the empty highway at a significantly slower pace. The weather was hot and dry, and Jason quickly grew irritated with it, pulling off at the next diner. He steadied his bike, and entered _Rikers_. He smirked at the waitress. "Table for one, please."

The waitress took in his dust-stained outfit, and the slight imprint of weaponry on his person, and gave him a booth by the window where he could see his bike. His phone buzzed with a text message.

**From: Asshole**

**I told you so. Dickie-wickie been spotted three miles outside of Canada- think he's trying to lure you that way. Think you should stick near Singer's place to keep the pressure up. **

**To: Asshole**

**Maybe later, dickwad. Got shit I need to do.**

**From: Asshole**

**Was that permission to wreck some mayhem?**

**To: Asshole**

**Stay away from the tequila.**

**From: Asshole**

**Ooh, yes. Recommend you stay out of Northton, Ohio. **

Jason shoots back an _Ok _and looks over the menu the waitress gives him. He orders a hamburger and fries, and chews slowly, grateful to be out of the heat. His phone buzzes again, an irate text from Babs, and he switches it to silent. He slurps his soda, watching the diner.

Eventually, he leaves.

The weather isn't any less hot, it is, as a matter of fact, even more broiling, but Jason reaches Sasha's apartment within a few short hours. She answers the door after the first knock, looking frazzled.

"Jesus _Christ_," Sasha curses, wrapping one hand around Jason's jacket, her red-hair sticking up every which way. "Get the _fuck _in here, Jason." She hauls him in.

Jason pauses at the sight of the blonde man. He's still laughing hysterically, and meets his gaze when Jason walks through the door.

"Well," Jason says after a moment, "what's an angel like you doing in a place like this? I was under the impression that us mud-monkey's were much to low to even be considered beneath your attention."

(^^)

Bobby Singer wants to know what the hell is going on. Gabriel has been acting shifty and irritated the last few days, and Castiel is gone a lot more than he used to be, and cranky to boot. Both Dean and Sam are on edge, thanks to Jason Todd.

Bobby ain't stupid. Jason hasn't been by the last few days- busy with that problem of his, Bobby reckons- but that don't mean that he won't come by soon. The older brother of his that Gabriel's wearing like a prom dress clearly means a lot to him. Bobby can't help but wonder what exactly Jason knows about what's going on, and which side he'd take.

He gets dragged from his thoughts by a loud bang and an even louder curse. He wheels himself over to the source of the noise, and sighs.

Sam and Dean had been wrestling, and one of them had knocked over a coffee table piled high with books. They look sheepishly up at him when he makes a noise.

"Uh, sorry Bobby," Sam said sheepishly, "I'll clean it up."

"And then you two are gonna get your sorry free-loading asses outta my house right? I hear there's a werewolf problem two towns over." Bobby arches an eyebrow. The Winchesters swallow and scramble up upstairs, Sam taking a few minutes to straighten up their mess.

Bobby sighs. He knows that Jason will pop up again in a few days, and right now all Bobby wants to do is take a nap and work the phones for a tad while figuring out the best way to keep Jason away.

He highly doubts that any of them will work, but balls, an old man gotta try right? Almost idly, he pulls a book titled _Hellgates _in Latin closer to himself, and flips through it.

(^^)

_I think that Sasha requires some explanation. So, welcome to one of the few authors notes you'll very likely see._

_Sasha Todd (because she isn't given a last name in canon) is a Russian immigrant that lives with her father during the time that Dick Grayson acts as Batman with Damian as his sidekick. Her father escapes from Batman and returns to the small apartment that she shares with him, yelling for her to pack up her stuff and get ready to leave. Her father is a small-time crook. _

_Unluckily, they were intercepted by Professor Pyg. Pyg manages to place her father under control with his Dollotron, but Sasha plays dead and he takes them both to his abandoned circus. _

_She manages to escape this with the help of Robin, but due to an interrupted plastic surgery performed by Pyg, she looks like one of his Dollotrons. She's traumatized, and escapes on her own after Robin had ditched her in favor of going after someone. Jason finds her after she arrives at the hospital, where he promises to give her a way to channel all of her rage. _

_And then begins the rise of Scarlet. _

_For the rest, read the comic. _


	5. Chapter 5

_[Pleased with himself after getting Sam to respond] He said 'shut up' to me! – Lucifer (7.15 Repro Man)_

Quite frankly, Sasha was expecting Jason's ball of repressed angst, UST, and occasionally the WHY WERE YOU SO FUCKING STUPID thing. Jason didn't do any of those.

Instead, both he and Blondie the Blonde started laughing.

Sasha wanted to smack them. So fucking bad.

"Balthazar! Heard you were dead!" Jason said cheerfully.

"Jason Todd! Heard you were a woman!" Balthazar retorted. Sasha face-palmed. Balthaxar remained silent for another moment, before asking, "And you are again?"

"Sasha Todd." Sasha said flatly. "And your stick is in a bag. Cheap," she added viciously, just to see the slight wince on Blondie McBlonderson's face, "_very _cheap bag. I bought it at Fry's- not that you would know what the hell that means, seeing as you're a fucking snobby asshole who probably needs help wiping your ass." She sniffed. The French Blonde looked dumbstruck while Jason started howling with laughter. "D'you need me to show you home? I understand that men aren't good with directions, just ask Jason how he ended in Mexico when he was s'posed be driving to Canada…"

Jason looked mortified, "I thought we agreed to never to never talk about that!" Balthazar snickered.

"No," Sasha corrected, "You paid me two hundred dollars not to tell Roy when you called me to beg me to come down and hide your weaponry- you're lucky I was in Tucson and close to the border."

Jason turned a violent shade of red. He did _not _want to be reminded of The Mexican Disaster while Bleach Head started snickering louder,

"Balthazar," Jason said once Sasha had left after insulting both of them, instituting that they were brothers and in an incestuous relationship, and that Jason should fuck a dagger before leaving to go shopping in the horrible place called _Victoria's Secret_. "We need to talk."

(^^)

"Have you heard about Dick?" Jason asks to break the slightly awkward silence.

"Partially, which is part of why I'm here, and to break the Staff of Moses." Balthazar shrugged and reclined against the couch. "Anyways, Jason, you _know _you shouldn't be talking too-"

"Stalker," Jason chastises. He shifts, still standing, and collapses dramatically into Sasha's overstuffed, bright pink arm chair. Balthazar shrugs, supremely unbothered. "So, what, are you here to pledge your allegiance?"

"I _left _to stay of the war, but I wouldn't be amiss of the idea of providing you with lore, understand?"

"I understand." Jason replied.

(^^)

Two days later, Jason is back at Bobby's, wearing an enormous grin.

Bobby scowls and wishes that Jason didn't have the ability to show up exactly when he's not wanted- Dean and Sam are here again.


	6. Chapter 6

_He's driven by __**obsession**__, a __**singleness **__of purpose. He'll never give up. –Bruce Wayne (New Earth)_

Jason Todd has been called many, many things, most of them unflattering. Persistent has been one of them, and Jason has been lounging on one of the wrecked cars like he owns it, smirking a smirk that would make Crowley jealous since late morning and it's edging well into the afternoon.

It's driving Bobby nuts.

He is _this fucking close _to getting the shotgun and chasing him off the property.

But he _can't _so he makes Sam deal with it, because he has a feeling that Jason and Dean would get along _far _to well to really fight.

_Balls. _

(^^)

Jason only pays attention to Cuddles in front of him when he's two feet away from him.

"Yo,": Jason says generously, when Cuddles can't seem to find words.

"Bobby says that he wants you to get off his lawn." Cuddles replies.

Jason vaguely thinks that he should stop watching _Happy Tree Friends_, "Singer needs to- heeeeey I know you!"

Cuddles gets a look on his face that implies that Jason is a horrible, horrible person.

"Didn't you die a horrible death with your brother at that FBI place? And aren't you a horrible serial killer?" Jason _beams _and it sets Sam Winchester on edge. "It's cool, I won't tell anyone if you tell me _where the fuck my brother is_," His voice lowers itself into a snarl. Jason's scowl turns into an ugly smile and gets off the car, and ambles off the property, leaving a dumbstruck Winchester behind him.

(^^)

When Jason gets back to the same motel room he rented last time, the tape-recorder that he set up for the bug has an interesting tale to tell.

_"__DEAN, BOBBY!" _Sam's voice yells, and Jason thinks it might be just after he left.

_"__What?" _a voice that only be Dean's demands, "_What got you in a tizzy Francis?" _

_ "__Well, I dunno Dean, maybe the fact that Todd knows who we are and that we're alive." _

_ "__Balls." _

_ "__He said that he wouldn't tell anyone quote 'you tell me where the fuck my brother is'." _

_ "__Well, Christ Sammy, how do we tell him that his brother's body is currently being used to house an archdouche?' _

_ "__Dean-o that's so mean!" _Dick's voice chastises. Jason snarls and throws the Bible that came with his room at the wall. It makes a satisfying _thump _sound.

_"__What, Gabriel?" _Dean snarls, _"He actually cares about family, and God knows that's fucking rare now, especially with fucking angels- SON OF A BITCH!" _

The next ten minutes are composed of loud, incompressible yelling and eventually fighting. Sam, by the sound of it, eventually wades in and separates them.

_"__You idjits," _Bobby says dryly, _"ya'll just hafta leave here for a bit. Lord knows it'll be better for my house, and if I got the feel of the boy right he'll be back tomorrow." _

Jason considers this a bit, and decides it's his god-given right to petulantly show up at two in the morning to piss everyone off.

_"__Hey, what's this?" _

Oh Christ. Even when Dick isn't Dick he still manages to ruin fucking everything. Jason yanks off the headset a spilt second before a loud squeal echoes through it and give the whole machine his best Bat-Glare.

(^^)

The phone is ringing at four o'clock in the morning. Jason peels his face off the cheap motel pillows and grunts a greeting when he answers the call.

_"__Todd!" _

"Ah, fuck," Jason growls, "_What_?"

_"__Well, I just thought you might want to know that Winchester one and two just left South Dakota. The bad news is, I need you to cause a really big supernatural upheaval to get them the fuck offa my trail." _

Jason's jaw drops, "Are you shitting me? No. _No. _I have done a lot of fucking shit for _you _but damn it, I won't do this."

_"__It might have the added bonus of you confirming Gabriel's in your brother." _

Jason lets out a sigh that sounds like a sob, "Fuck. Fucking _fuck you, you giant bag of fucking dicks. _Fine. I'll do it. Which fucking town fucking closest to me has the highest supernatural population?"

The voice on the other end of the line chuckles, _"Greenbergh, a medium sized town that is currently housing two werewolf packs and an uneasy truce." _

Jason hangs up with a snarl.

(^^)

Jason waits casually in a bar that is filled with college students, some of which contain the two uneasy packs. He waits, and punches the closest one to him in the throat.

The resulting upheaval starts the newest pack war between the two, and causes the whole fucking bar to be painted in red.

The good news is, it brings the Winchesters and their plus two to town. He's on top of the roof when they roll in, and Dick gets out of their monster of a car, all inhuman grace, and not Dick.

Jason swallows harshly and leaves town without looking back.

He's got all the confirmation he needs, thanks.


	7. Chapter 7

_Dean, even for you, this is a whole new mountain of stupid- Lucifer (5.22 Swan Song) _

Jason's leaning against his motorcycle, smoking a cigarette. Behind him is an empty, ethereal church, falling apart. To his left is two scowling red-heads.

Jason's ignoring them with the ease of long practice. He raises an eyebrow when Roy slams a hand down on his motorcycle.

"Are you even _listening _to me Jason?" Roy snaps, his easy-going demeanor gone in favor of all out rage. "When exactly were you going to tell us that Dick was fucking missing?"

Jason shrugs. Roy growls and rips the cigarette from Jason's hand, tossing it. Jason glowers at him. Kory sighs and stalks closer.

"Roy is upset because we had to find out from Oliver Queen of all people. _Queen_. Why did you not tell us?"

"Because," Jason snaps, "Only I can fix this one, Star, and with you two, trust me, it'll only make it worse. This isn't fighting crime, guys, and once you're in, your never ever out." Jason sighs, frustrated, and runs a hand through his hair, "Please."

Roy and Kory fall silent, struck dumb by the word that both would previously swear that Jason didn't know.

Jason takes one last drag of his cigarette, glowers them both into submission, and leaves.

(^^)

What happens next is a surprise to everyone.

Really, an enormous surprise to everyone, excluding Jason.

The pretty pastel package was sitting on the table, wrapped in an enormous pink bow. When Bobby unwrapped it, the enormous bar of chocolate with a small stylized trumpet on top was too much of a taunt to ignore.

Bobby clenched his jaw, grabbed his shotgun, and wheeled himself to his Toyota. _Goddamnit. _

Jason, on the other hand, was sulking in a bar. And wallowing, because he was relatively certain that the other two Outsiders were conducting their own investigations and he knew sooner or later that one or both of them would run into someone or something from the other side of the fence. Jason was also willing to pay good money on it being Roy.

He sighed, but smiled at the pretty thing that sat next to him. She smirked, he sighed.

Fucking _really._

"What." Feeling a tad irritable, he added, "_Chirsto._"

"Aw, Jasy-poo, I've missed you too!" Meg said cheerfully as her eyes flashed black. Jason ignored her and traced the rim of his glass, "You're no _fun _anymore, really." She sniffed, her nose in the air and ordered a scotch, "Just wanted to know _why _you're sniffing around, last time wasn't exactly fun for anyone."

Jason snorted. "Speak for yourself, I had _plenty _of fun. What the fuck do you want, anyways Meg?"

"I want to know why you're getting interested despite the last thing you told me." Meg said flatly. "And, you play dirty, so excuse _me_ for wanting you gone."

"Aw, no assassination attempts? There goes my evening." Jason chuckled and sipped at his beer. "I'm looking to get a certain asshole out of a certain someone, but I do intend to stay out of the fucking minefield. Really, I'm almost disappointed in this apocalypse. I think I can safely say I've seen better."

"Don't be a fuck," Meg said, crossing one lean leg over the other, "This one is from earth, not from the aliens." She smirked, "one could almost say it's _destined _to happen."

"Did anyone ever tell you that you're bad at puns?" Jason asked dryly, "I mean, Christ, really?" He smirked as Meg winced, "How many bodyguards did you bring anyways?"

Meg flipped Jason off. "Double on the rocks," Meg said to the bartender, "Just do everyone a favor and get in, get it done, and get the fuck out."

"Now," Jason said, reclining on the barstool, "I feel I'm obligated to fuck with you Meggy-steggy."

Meg faceplanted onto the table, "Father help us all."

(^^)

Bobby waits impatiently for his call to go through, cursing the day he had met John Winchester and his no good, very bad, terrible sons.

"_The fuck do you want?_" Rufus growled.

"Sober up, dipshit, I need yer help."

"_With what?_" Rufus sounds pissy. Bobby figures that he woke the man up in the middle of a bender. "_No don't bother. It's about that Jace, Mason, Carson kid you've been bitching about?_"

"I don't _bitch_." Bobby said, affronted.

"_You totally do. Is it about that kid?_"

"Yes," Bobby growled.

"_Fine. Pick me up Gimpy. And bring me a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue._"

"I'll bring you something alright," Bobby grumbled, and hung up.

Rufus sniggered and hung up.

Bobby rolled his eyes and turned towards where Rufus was currently lurking- crazy paranoid bastard. And this time, the bastard better share the liquor.

(^^)

_Bad boys bad boys watcha gonna do when the cops get called on you? Bad boys bad boys-_

"Excuse me for a second Megalicous," Jason snarked at the demon, and picked up. "The hell do you want?"

"_Jason, why the hell is Nightwing's costume missing?_" Bruce demanded.

Jason froze. "_What?!"_


	8. Chapter 8

_Be careful Red Robin. They're wearing sunglasses at night. Which means they're very cool.-Richard Grayson (New Earth)_

Three hours later, Jason had tracked down the suit. Bruce had beaten him to it- Tarantula quickly became a very sorry woman. Jason had gotten bored after Bruce had found out, and decided to go find and retrieve Dick.

That had led him to acquire a beanbag cannon off of someone rather shady in a dark alley, several rolls of duct tape, and the blueprints of a 1967 Impala. The duct tape was bright pink and had tiny little elephants in them in a horrifying shade of yellow. Dick would have loved it. Jason, on principle, despised it.

Two days after the shopping spree that made several people rethink their life choices, two people given concrete boots and a free swimming lesson, and more scarred-for-life people higher than Jason suspected the Joker could count, Jason was sabotaging the Winchesters' Impala.

Two small cuts to the fuel line, removed a screw, and Jason had made sure that the mammoth of a car could limp about sixty miles out of town. He then planted a bug and a tracker on both the inside and outside of the car- standard procedure for him when it came to vehicles. He paused for a minute, glanced around, and also stole the wheels. He then stuffed them in the backseat.

He snickered, and vanished.

Three hours later, the Winchesters come tearing out of a motel room, pursued by a pissed off guy with an axe. It was something out a bad horror movie, and the Winchesters have lived some of the better ones.

Dean then encountered one of his boggarts.

"My _baby_!" He wailed, almost dropping his duffel, "Who _did _this to you?"

"DEAN!" Sam yelled, struggling to unzip his duffel while running for his life.

Axe murdering guy stopped for a moment. "What?"

Sam got the shotgun out, whirled around and shot the axe murdering guy in the head. He dropped like a sack potatoes, and Sam turned around to see what had his brother in the snits. He manfully resisted the urge to giggle.

Dean's car had its tires stuffed in the back seat, and almost like an afterthought, someone had keyed on the top of the car what generously could be called a devil's trap. On the driver's side, someone had scrawled out the symbol for Michael, on the other Lucifer. Sam collapsed in laughter once he caught sight of what was keyed on the trunk.

A giant winged dick.

Oh Jesus Christ, _a winged fucking dick. _

Whoever had done this had a clear sense of irony. Sam suspected Gabriel. (Uriel _would _have been a suspect, if he wasn't. Well. Dead.) Dean evidently thought the same thing, judging how his anguished howls had turned into resentful glaring, and then him screaming for Gabe to get his winged ass over here.

Gabriel showed up after several minutes. Once he caught sight of the car, it took another twenty to get him to stop laughing. "I-I didn't do it," he wheezed out, "but, boy bozos, is it funny." He laughed again and vanished. Castiel showed up a spilt second after Gabriel left, evidently wishing to find out what had Dean in a tizzy. He vanished when he caught sight of the car.

It took them a half hour to get the tires out of the backseat, and then they remembered that the tiny town they were in didn't have any sort of mechanics or car shop. Dean swore, and resolved himself for the long drive to the closest big town.

The car stopped dead sixty miles out.

"Fuck!" Dean cussed, almost but not quite slamming the Impala's doors. He wrenched open the hood to see an enormous leak and a small amount of smoke. "Shit! Sam," he yelled, "We're sleeping in the car!"

"What's the problem?" Sam called back.

"I don't _know_! Fuck, it's too dark and I don't have the right stuff!" Dean swore vehemently under his breath, cursing his luck. Never his precious, though. Sam sighed and got into the backseat where he'd have more room to stretch out.

Jason grinned and dialed step two.

(*)(*)(*)(*)

"Excuse me." Someone knocked on the window, "Hey mister! Wait. _Misters._"

Dean groaned and threw an arm over his eyes.

"That's not gonna work! Mister! C'mon, lemme see those baby blueeeeees!"

What the _fuck_?

"Dean, make them go a_way_," Sam demanded childishly.

"C'mon! I'm being paid forty bucks and a premiere to deliver this message! Plus, Jay-Jay said you were hot. Don't disappoint me!" Another rap on the window. The clock clicked to two in the morning.

Dean finally sat up and rolled down the window. The woman outside looked like she was barely out of her teens, sucking on a red lollipop, and leaning precariously on a bright eggplant Harley. She was blonde and grinning manically. "What." Dean demanded.

The woman grinned wider. "Jay-Jay says he's w_aiting_. And boy, do you not disappoint. Can I lick you?" She laughed.

"No." Dean snapped. "Who are you talking about?"

At this the woman frowned, "Jay? Jason Todd? Black hair with a white streak, enough sarcasm to skin a cat?" She shook her head, "Hasn't Jay-Jay introduced himself?"

"Not officially," Dean answered. "What's he waiting for?"

The woman removed the lollipop she had been sucking on. Her tongue and lips were stained bright red. "Who do you think? He's waiting for Dick. As a matter of fact, the whole family is waiting for him. We're kinda like the mob. I would know." She shrugged. "That's the message. Now I gotta go collect my tickets to the newest Stephanie Plum movie."

"Hey, wait!"

The blonde straddled her motorcycle, revved up, and sped off.

"Jason isn't gonna give up any time soon." Sam commented. He had been dragged awake.

"No," Deam said, still watching the road, "No, he isn't."

(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)

In a small diner two states over, a blonde man checked his watch.

It was ten minutes slow. He adjusted it accordingly and then checked the date. He was four days early.

He looked around the diner, checked his watch again, and shrugged.

Well, it wasn't _like _they _mattered_.

The death count was forty-two. After the massacre made the news, the blonde man received a text with new coordinates, and a warning not to repeat himself. The blonde man scoffed and vanished.

(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)

Outside the Impala, Jason checked his watch, smirked and rapped on the windshield.

Twenty miles away, a rather angry demon was crashing its way towards them. Which of them it wanted would be hard to say.

Okay. That's a lie.

The jokes about its status in hell were just to easy, _Number Two_.

Jason regretted nothing.


	9. Chapter 9

_Do I look like Google to you- Meg (Goodbye Stranger 8.17)_

"Hi." Jason said, relishing in the expressions of panic that cross both Winchesters' faces. He hears a curse, and the older one sullenly steps out of the car. He stays by the driver's side. Smart of him.

Jason moves so that the possibility of him being ran over is lower and stands in front of him. They're the same height, but Jason's slightly bulkier.

"Dude," Dean says, and Jason startles, because _woah_, they sound _exactly alike_. "What the fuck?"

"I think you know," Jason says evenly.

"I have no idea where your brother is man," Dean replies.

"See, I'd be more inclined to believe you if you weren't lying to me." Jason arches an eyebrow. " 'sides, aren't you dead?"

Contrary to what the Pretender thought, Jason _did _watch the news. He suddenly had a slightly disturbing thought. "Are you a zombie?"

Real valid concern. Zombies tended to be taken in by Talia and taught be ninjas. Jason would know. He was one.

Dean gaped. Two seconds later, he started laughing. "No, I ain't a zombie. And I'm clearly not dead, so wherever you heard that was dead wrong." He snickers. Jason groans.

"That was fucking terrible," Jason informs Dean. "Where's Dick?"

"I don't know man." Dean replies.

Jason smiles coldly. "I suggest you tell me before I get upset."

The atmosphere turns deadly. Sam is watching warily from the Impala, slowly inching to the door.

Jason pulls out his gun before Dean can, and has another trained on Sam in the same movement. "Out of the car, Sam." He says flatly. "Hands up Dean."

Dean glares, but complies. Sam gently shuts the door with his free hand.

"Now," Jason sing-songs, "You are going to help me get my brother back."


End file.
